The Tales of Knight
by monkeywithapen
Summary: Since the beginning of the time of humans, the only beings that survived and endured through the millennia were the immortal warlocks. One warlock in particular always had strong ties with the Nephilim, beginning with the first, Jonathan Shadowhunter. The following is a chronicle of the lives and experiences of Allora Knight, her dear friend Magnus Bane, and the Nephilim.
1. Allora Knight

** So I got an idea for this after reading the first installment of The Bane Chronicles, "What Really Happened In Peru." I liked the idea of a day-to-day account of the life of Shadowhunters and Downworlders. So that's what this is along with some new original characters. I have another Mortal Instruments story I started years ago but never finished. I sort of forgot where I was going with it and gave up. This, on the other hand, doesn't have much of a central plot, which is very different from what I usually write. I guess it's an experiment. Also, I apologize for any spelling/grammar errors. I always manage to miss a few. Enjoy!**

* * *

New York City – the city that never sleeps. Whether light or dark, the city always thrummed with life, constantly busy. As if the world as we see it isn't busy enough, another world thrives alongside it hidden beneath layers of glamour. The alleyway behind the club looked deserted. Passersby would only turn their heads if they heard a noise, but they would write it off as a homeless person or a stray cat. Most of the people passing by were drunk anyway, considering the late hour and the shady neighborhood. Little do the habitants of New York know, a war as old as time raged on around the Mundanes. A war between good and evil, light and dark. A war between angels and demons – quite literally.

Jace Lightwood ran up the wall and flipped in the air, landing softly behind the scaly, gray demon. He jabbed the hilt of a Seraph blade into the demon's back. He muttered, "_Asariel_," and a blade shot out of the hilt, piercing through the demon's heart. The demon shrieked as it jerked, black ichor spraying everywhere. When it became still, it folded upon itself and disappeared back to the demon realm from whence it came.

Behind Jace, Alec Lightwood fended off a demon whose arms were swords. Alec with his own sword parried the blows like a well-trained knight, seeking out weakness and waiting for a window of opportunity. He found it. The demon came at the elder Lightwood with a wide swing aiming to decapitate him. Alec ducked and swung his word around, slicing the demon clean in half. He miscalculated slightly and earned a cut on his forearm from the demon's razor sharp tail.

Another demon covered in orange, poisonous slime leaped at Isabelle Lightwood. Isabelle lashed out with her whip, knocking the demon against the wall. With a flick of her wrist, the electrum whip wound around the demon's throat. Isabelle yanked hard, pulling the whip so tight that it severed the demon's head from its shoulders.

Isabelle touched the large square ruby at the throat. "That's the last of them," she panted. She cracked her whip against the pavement to clean it off, sending ichor and slime splattering all over the alleyway. Then she sank down on an old wooden crate, exhausted.

"That's it?" Jace whined with disappointment. "Just as I was starting to have fun."

"You're unbelievable," Alec muttered. "There were at least fifteen of them. I'd say that's more than enough." He began fussing over a deep gash in Isabelle's shoulder. Isabelle slapped her brother's hand away. She hated being treated like a child.

"Let's go," Alec said. "I don't know what kind of poisons those demons had. We should get back to the Institute quickly in case any of us were poisoned. Magnus left some of his potions in the infirmary."

"Oooh, potions, huh?" Jace sneered.

"Shut up, Jace," Alec growled.

The three Shadowhunters, covered in cuts, bruises, dirt, blood, and slime leaned on each other as they began the trek back to the Institute. They only took a few steps before Alec stumbled. His hand shot out, stabilizing himself against the wall.

"You okay?" Jace asked.

Alec's head was swimming. The streetlights swirled before him. "I'm dizzy," he grumbled.

"Must be demon poison," Isabelle said, helping Alec stay upright. "Which one was it?"

Alec shook his head slowly. "I don't know. Too many."

Isabelle swore. "Think, Alec. Which one? I won't know which potion to give you."

"All of them," Jace offered. When Isabelle shot him a dirty look, he added, "Well, one of them is bound to work."

"Well, well, well," said a strange voice. "Hello, Nephilim."

A figure had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Its voice was strong, but feminine. Jace drew a Seraph blade and took a protective stance in front of the two Lightwoods. Hidden by the shadows, Jace could just barely make out an outline. The figure stepped forward into the light of a dimming streetlamp. It was a girl of about nineteen years old. She seemed human enough, but demons always had a mark that gave them away, even shapeshifters and half-demon warlocks.

"You know, this is a bad part of town, _chica_," Jace said.

"I can tell," the girl replied. She nodded toward the Shadowhunters. "You lot look a right bloody mess."

Jace straightened up. "They make demons with British accents now?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "I'm only half-demon, you half-wit."

"How dare you?!" Jace bellowed in an exaggerated, mocking accent. "I have much more than half a wit!"

"Look, are you going to stand there and mock me all night? Or are you going to let me help your mate?" the girl demanded, gesturing to Alec. "He needs to be healed by a warlock."

"Funny thing, actually, he just broke up with one."

Isabelle growled impatiently. She brushed past Jace, dragging Alec along with her. "My brother doesn't know what kind of demon poisoned him. Can you help?" Isabelle asked the warlock.

"Of course I can."

"Don't trust a warlock," Alex grumbled, hazily.

"We don't have any other choice," his sister argued. "It's not like Magnus is going to help us."

The warlock girl held out her hand to younger Lightwood. "Come with me."

Isabelle hesitated. Alec was right. It would be senseless to trust a stranger, especially a warlock. "Why should we trust you?"

The girl shrugged. "You probably shouldn't, but that's your call."

Isabelle sighed, but finally took the warlock girl's hand.

"Don't I get an invitation?" Jace cried, feeling left out.

"Well, come along then," the warlock said impatiently. "Hold on."

Jace placed his hand on Isabelle's shoulder. The warlock girl traced shimmering, unfamiliar Runes in the air and snapped her fingers. That's when Jace believed he saw the warlock's mark. Suddenly, her eyes glowed an opalescent green. One second they were standing in the alleyway. The next they were standing inside a luxurious high rise loft.

"Put him on the sofa," the warlock said, "and take off his gear." She disappeared into another room and then reappeared with an old brown leather medicine box. Jace and Isabelle led Alec over to the black leather U-shaped couch. Alec lay down clumsily as his sister and Jace began removing his gear.

"Who are you anyway?" Isabelle asked.

"Allora Knight," said the warlock. She began inspecting Alec's wounds as Jace pulled off the last of the gear.

"Why are you helping us? You're a Downworlder."

Allora smiled slightly. "Let's just say I have a long history with the Nephilim. I've always been on good terms with them. This is Alec Lightwood, yes?"

Isabelle's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"Magnus told me all about him. And you must be Isabelle."

"You know Magnus?"

Allora chuckled as she soaked a cloth with a sour smelling potion. "I know Mr. Bane quite intimately. Alec, I'm sorry, but this will sting." Alec winced as Allora cleaned his wounds with the cloth.

"How intimately?" Jace asked.

Allora raised an eyebrow at him. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she scoffed with a mischievous grin.

"Yes, I would actually."

"I've known Magnus for a very long time. We used to travel and go on adventures of all sorts together in our younger years."

"When was that? A few centuries ago?"

"Hmmph! A mouthy little git you are. You must be a Herondale. All looks and no charm."

Isabelle snickered at this comment.

"What are you talking about?" Jace demanded defensively. "I am a lovely and pleasant individual. I'm more charming than Prince Charming!"

"If Prince Charming were a ravener…" Allora muttered. "Right then. I need to get to work before the poison does any more damage. You two make yourselves at home. No bickering. There are biscuits in the kitchen."

"Biscuits? Who makes biscuits anymore?" Jace said.

"Oh, what is it you Americans call them? Cookies? Yes, there are cookies in the kitchen. And one more thing – if you don't know what it is, don't touch it."

Jace froze with his fingers only a hair's width away from a jade amulet hanging on the wall. He withdrew his hand slowly. He was about to ask what would happen if he touched the amulet, but then he decided he probably didn't want to know. Warlocks were weird.

* * *

The next morning, Jace woke up on one side of the U-shaped couch. Across the chrome and glass coffee table, Isabelle lay asleep on the other side of the couch. Her little finger was hooked around Alec's, who was also asleep on the middle section of the couch. The warlock had offered Jace and Isabelle the spare bedrooms to spend the night, but they wanted to stay by Alec's side. That's how they grew up – always together.

Jace stood up and stretched, working out the kinks in his muscles. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles as he walked into the kitchen. He inhaled deeply, filling his nostrils with the smell of breakfast – eggs, bacon, and pancakes. Allora sat at the square table, her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that was pressed to her chin. She stared blankly across the kitchen, and Jace took a moment to study her. Her tanned complexion was flawless. Her jet black hair fell stick-straight onto her shoulders. Her large almond-shaped eyes were rimmed with lashes so long and thick that they would never need mascara. Though she was strikingly and unnaturally beautiful, she seemed perfectly human. Even her irises were perfect circles and a shade of rich olive green that could pass for human. Jace thought he had seen the warlock's mark, but he wasn't sure.

"Jace, I am well aware that I am quite attractive, but staring is rude," Allora said without looking up at Jace.

"I want to see who will blink first," Jace said. "I'm very good at staring contests."

"You're looking for my warlock's mark."

"Well, I don't see it, so I assume it's under your clothes. I personally would not mind taking a look."

Suddenly, the chair across the table from Allora slid outward as if inviting Jace to take a seat. Allora's eyes glimmered a pale, opalescent green as they had the night before when she transported herself and the three Shadowhunters from the alley to her apartment. Her mark only appeared when she used magic.

"Well, I guess that's convenient," Jace said.

"You have no idea." It was then that Jace saw the only thing about the warlock's face that gave away her age; it was her eyes. The look in her eyes spoke of an old soul that had seen just about everything, both beautiful and horrible. Her eyes were shadowed with the wisdom of centuries, and yet shone with the spark of a mischievous youngster who had all the time in the world.

Jace helped himself to a plate of food and sat down across from Allora. "So how old _are_ you?" he asked with a mouthful of bacon.

"You know, you should never ask a woman her age," Allora replied pretending to be offended.

"Are you older than Magnus?"

"I am older than the Nephilim. I was born two hundred years before Jonathan Shadowhunter."

Jace whistled. "Well, let me tell you, you are aging well. Speaking of Magnus, have you heard from him or seen him lately? It's like he fell off the face of the earth after he dumped Alec."

"Magnus? He's probably up to some drunken debauchery in some exotic place, downing every drink he can get his hands on, embarking on madmen's adventures, making love to anything and everything in his path."

"Drunken debauchery? And he didn't invite me?" Jace frowned with disappointment.

"That's what he does when he's in pain. He runs away, drinks himself stupid, gets himself banned from places for doing things he can't remember."

"Isn't he banned from Peru? What did he do?"

"No one knows," Allora said shaking her head. "I actually ran into Magnus about two months ago in Thailand. We had quite a fun night. Magnus accidently set fire to a hotel when he tried to join a flame breathing act. At one point, he snatched a broom from an old woman cleaning her doorstep and enchanted it to fly. He said he wanted to fly to China to fulfill his life dream of becoming a panda. In the end he fell off the broom and decided that some dreams were too far out of reach to be practical. The next morning, he was gone. But he left me a note asking me to keep an eye on things in New York for him."

"Why? He's gone on vacation before without leaving anyone in charge."

"It's not the city his worried about. It's Alec."

"Why did he ask you?"

"Like I said, I've always been close with the Nephilim. Also, I was once the High Warlock of London."

"Was? What happened?"

"I retired. It had been centuries since I had gone travelling, so I set out to explore the world – again."

Suddenly the front door banged open. "_I'm baaaaaack!_" sang a familiar voice.

"If it isn't the _Bane_ of my existence…" Allora grumbled. "I knew I shouldn't have given him a key."

Magnus Bane dashed into the kitchen. "Allora, darling! You won't _believe_ what happened in Moracco! Oh it was wonderful! I'll have you tell you everything! Well, everything I remember anyway, which unfortunately isn't very much."

"Magnus, are you still drunk?"

"Maaaaaybeeeee," Magnus drawled, swaying side to side.

"I'm not surprised. Have you noticed that I have guests? You're being very rude."

"Good morning, sorry to – OH HOLY–" Magnus jumped back in surprise, his cat-like eyes almost popping out of his head, and unleashed a string of curses even Jace would have hated to repeat. "JONATHAN CHRISTOPHER MORGENSTERN LIGHTWOOD WAYLAND HERONDALE!"

"Say that ten times fast," Jace challenged.

"Magnus?" said a groggy voice from the doorway of the kitchen. Magnus looked up and his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. Alec, with his hair and clothes disheveled, stood leaning against the wall rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I thought I heard your voice. What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same," Magnus replied harshly.

"Please be polite to my guests," Allora scolded the other warlock.

"It's okay," Alec said quietly. "I'll wake Izzy and we'll get out of your hair. Thank you for your help. I am in your debt. Come on, Jace."

Magnus looked like he was going to be ill, having not expected to see his ex-boyfriend. Whatever he had eaten a few hours ago, it was not sitting well with the alcohol and butterflies churning in his stomach.

"If you vomit anywhere but the toilet, I will feed you to the werewolves," Allora warned him.


	2. Jonathan Shadowhunter

**I'm sorry this took so long! _ Please be patient with me. Enjoy!**

* * *

Later that night, Magnus finally crawled out of the bathroom. He had lost count of how many times he had vomited. He found Allora sitting in the hallway across from the bathroom with a purple concoction bubbling in a glass. She handed the glass to Magnus who downed it quickly and sat down across from his fellow warlock.

"Thanks, Allora," Magnus said sincerely. "You're always taking care of me. Better than Catarina. What kind of healer refuses to heal her own kind? You know, she let an old woman rub a guinea pig all over me once in Peru. Oh, I miss that place. A pity you never came with me before I was–"

"Magnus," Allora said sternly, cutting him off. "I want you sober for a reason."

"Allora, my dear, I simply don't have the energy for love-making right now. How long as it been since we last–"

"Magnus!"

Magnus fell silent. He of course knew what Allora wanted from him. "I don't want to talk about Alec."

"You pulled me out of retirement to watch over this boy. Now start talking."

"I already told you everything when we met up in Bangkok. Alec considered taking away my immortality."

"You know Camille was the one who tried to persuade him. You crossed her and she was angry. She used Alec to get back at you. You know how manipulative she can be. In fact, you should know _very_ well."

"Yes, but no mortal I have loved has ever considered shortening my life."

"Did any of them know that was a possibility?"

Magnus hesitated. "No," he finally answered.

"Can you really blame Alec? He may be Nephilim, but he's also human. In the end, he turned Camille down. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"No, it doesn't."

"What would you have done in Alec's place?"

"He should have at least told me!" Magnus yelled with frustration. "I thought he was smarter than that."

"He was scared," Allora said firmly. The two warlocks fell silent for some time. Magnus traced patterns in the carpet with his finger. He kept his head down, afraid to meet Allora's eyes. Of all the creatures in this world and the next, Allora was the one person Magnus listened to, being one of the few warlocks both older and more powerful than he. When he went off the rails, Allora was his voice of reason. She usually kept him in check.

"Why did you come back so soon?" Allora asked, finally breaking the silence. "It's only been two months since you left. I wasn't expecting you back for a few years."

Magnus didn't answer and continued fiddling with the carpet. Allora moved across the hall and sat beside Magnus. She took his hand between hers.

"Come on, Magnus," she said gently. "Talk to me, mate."

Magnus rested his head on his friend's shoulder. "I miss him. I don't know if seeing him or not seeing him hurts me more."

"I'm sorry, Mags. You know, he misses you too. You should talk to him. At least clear the air."

"Maybe… Can I stay here for a while? I don't want to go home yet."

"What's wrong with your flat?"

"Everything reminds me of Alec. He's taken all of his things but it's like a part of him is still there. When you truly love someone, they never really leave you."

Allora nodded in agreement. "No, they don't."

"I can't handle that right now."

"Of course you can stay with me. Under one condition."

"What?"

"No more wallowing. Wallowing is for elephants, remember?"

Magnus finally cracked a smile and nodded.

* * *

Allora flopped down on the couch, exhausted. She decided that when Magnus returned, she would kill him. And burn those god-awful glittered leather pants that he loved so much. Once she thought she had cleaned up the glitter, she found more dustings around her apartment. By the end of it, she was covered in glitter and dragged more of it all over the areas she had just cleaned. Just then, Allora heard someone crying hysterically in the corridor. It sounded like Magnus. The sobbing came closer and closer until it reached her door. The key turned in the lock and the door swung open. Indeed Magnus was sobbing hysterically, shouting nonsense in a language Allora didn't know. To her surprise, Alec was also standing in the doorway supporting the bawling warlock. Alec half carried, half dragged Magnus into the apartment.

"I'm so sorry, Allora," Alec said breathlessly. "I didn't know where else to take him. I thought of taking him home, but I don't want him left alone."

Allora got up and shut the door behind Alec. "It's alright. He's been staying with me so I can keep an eye on him. He said he wanted to get Chairman Meow from his neighbor. What happened?"

"We got an alert that a warlock was causing an uproar at the werewolf bar in Brooklyn. Things were getting too far out of hand, and we were asked to intervene. We got there and Magnus was fighting off a pack of werewolves. Apparently one of the wolves called him…well…an alternative for 'cat'… and so Magnus turned him into a… well, a cat." Alec blushed, flustered with embarrassment. He never imagined he would ever spew such nonsense. "Of course the wolves were furious and they started to attack Magnus. He fought them off by…turning them into cats… Oh, by the Angel, I know this sounds ridiculous, but I swear this is the truth."

Allora narrowed her eyes at Magnus, who had thrown himself on the floor in a tantrum and was now rolling around on the carpet shouting something about stars.

"Stranger things have happened when alcohol and Magnus Bane mix," Allora assured Alec.

"He started singing musical numbers from _CATS_."

"You mean the Broadway musical?"

Alec nodded. "He had to have had at least twenty drinks."

"_Blimey_… Magnus, do shut up!"

Magnus whimpered and curled up in the fetal position.

"I tried to calm him down and get him home," Alec continued. "He knocked a guy off his bicycle and enchanted it to fly."

Allora sighed heavily. "Magnus really enjoys flying when he's hammered."

"He said he wanted to ride the bicycle to the moon. He made me… Oh god, I can't believe I let him talk me into this. He made me sit on the handlebars and pretend to be E.T. It was the only thing that would make him stop screaming and causing a scene. We landed in Central Park by the zoo, but he thought we were on the moon. He ran to the monkey cage and got down on his knees, begging the 'Monkey King' to spare his life."

Allora put her face in her hands. "Magnus _hates_ monkeys."

"Well, the monkeys started jumping at him inside the cage and were screeching at him. He ran away screaming that he no longer liked the moon because it was ruled by evil monkeys and was clearly not made of cheese, and that he wanted to go back to earth. Then he started yelling about how the stars disappeared. He claimed that fireflies ate all the stars to keep themselves glowing."

"It's true!" Magnus raged, stumbling to his feet. "Look! Look outside, Allora! The stars are gone! They're all gone!"

"Magnus, it's light pollution. You can't see the stars from the city. You know that," Allora said patiently.

"LIES!" Magnus bellowed. "The fireflies ate them! Those greedy little bastards! Stealing the fire from the skies for themselves!"

"He's going insane," Alec said helplessly. "I don't know what to do with him."

"I am _NOT_ insane, Alexander Gideon Lightwood! I am not crazy! Only crazy in love with youuuuuuu!"

Suddenly, Magnus fell to Alec's feet, clutching the Shadowhunter's leg as if he holding onto dear life as he sobbed and bawled. Allora took her leather bound medicine box off the bookshelf and rooted through it. She extracted a vial of acid green liquid and uncorked it.

"Alec, hold him down."

"What is that?"

"A sedative."

Alec held Magnus firmly while Allora poured the vial down the thrashing warlock's throat. As Magnus began to ease up, Alec loosened his grip and eventually released the warlock.

"That should keep him calm for a while," Allora said. "If you would be so kind, please help him get into bed without hurting himself."

* * *

Allora gazed longingly at the jade amulet hanging on the wall. She reached out and touched it lightly. She found her heart aching for the man who gave it to her. As Magnus had said, when you truly love someone, they never really leave you, even after so many hundreds of years. Allora closed her eyes so she could see the face of the man who was her first love. She remembered how his blonde waves bounced as he ran. His soft hazel eyes were steady and comforting. And he had the most radiant and charming smile.

Allora opened her eyes and wiped away the tears on the brink of falling down her face. The jade pendant had been given to her he last time she saw him. It was a cold December morning in Scotland that he rode off to battle. Allora had begged him not to go, but he felt duty-bound to fight.

_He pulled the pendant, dangling on a leather cord, out of the breast pocket of his coat. He slipped the necklace around Allora's neck and cupped her face in his strong, callused hands. "This was my mother's necklace," he said. "Keep it safe for me. I would be devastated if I lost it in the battle. I will come back for it."_

_Allora's eyes brimmed with tears. "What if you don't come back?"_

_"I will. Don't you worry. And when I do return, we can finally be together."_

_Allora looked away. He turned her back to face him. "What is it?" he asked with concern in his voice._

_"Years ago, you told me that we could never be together because of what you are and what I am. You are half angel and I half demon."_

_"And yet we're both human. I _will_ come back for you, Allora."He kissed her goodbye one last time. He climbed onto his horse and rode away with his parabatai to attack the Great Demon's lair. He looked back at her with a grin – that confident, charming grin. And that was the last she saw of her first love._

"What is that?"

Allora gasped as she snapped out of her reverie. She had completely forgotten that she wasn't alone.

"I didn't mean to startle you," Alec said apologetically. Then he gestured to the pendant on the wall. "Is it a talisman or an amulet or something?"

"It seems like it, doesn't it? No, it's just an ordinary stone given to me by the most extraordinary man."

"It's precious to you, isn't it?"

"Very."

"Why don't you keep it somewhere safe?"

"I place it here so I will always see it and remember. When someone like me loves a mortal, your love becomes a race against time. You live a lifetime with the one you love, giving them your all because you know that unlike you, they will expire. Though you manage to carry on, a part of you dies with the one you loved. Every time you love and watch love live and die, another piece of you dies. And you begin to wonder how many times you can do this until there's nothing left of you to die. This necklace is a reminder of the lesson that I have been taught over and over but I never seem to learn. I've tried to not love, but what is life without love?"

"It's empty and meaningless," Alec said sullenly. "Was he a mundane? The man who gave this to you?"

"No, a Shadowhunter. It was his mother's. He gave it to me before a battle and said he would come back for it…"

When Allora fell silent, Alec finished the thought for her. "But he never did."

Allora shook her head.

"Who was he?"

"He was my first love and the first of the Nephilim race."

Alec's eyes widened. "You mean…" He trailed off in disbelief.

Allora nodded. "He was Jonathan Shadowhunter."

* * *

The next morning, Alec woke up after spending the night on Allora's couch for the second time. As he sat up and stretched, his eyes fell on the jade necklace on the wall. It was strange, but it felt almost surreal to be looking at something that had belonged to the first Shadowhunter. Suddenly Alec wanted to know everything about Jonathan Shadowhunter. He was bursting with curiosity. Allora could see it in Alec's eyes when she walked into the living room. She was in a grey New York University hoodie and pink boxer shorts. She hadn't bothered to brush her hair. It made Alec feel less self-conscious about his wrinkled clothes and tangled hair.

"You want to know about him, don't you?" Allora stated.

"Yes, of course!" Alec said excited. When he realized he was being insensitive, he added, "But if you don't want to talk about him, it's okay. It must be painful to remember him."

Allora shrugged. "Only sometimes. Besides, Jonathan _was_ the first of your kind. It's only natural that you would be curious about him. Oh, where should I start?"

"How did you meet him?"

"At the time I was around 200 years old. I was still growing and couldn't control my powers well. Jonathan was a boy then, just sixteen. Well, back then, a boy of that age would already be a man."

* * *

A young girl in a dark, hooded cloak sprinted through the streets as armed soldiers followed in hot pursuit. People yelled in alarm as the girl crashed through the crowded streets. "Witch! Witch!" the soldiers shouted behind her. When she turned corners, trying to lose her pursuers, the town folk pointed the soldiers in her direction. Allora cursed. Was there not _one_ good Samaritan in this city? She was beginning to tire. The soldiers were gaining on her. She could get away if she used magic, but she didn't dare use her powers. Who knows what would happen if she did.

Allora turned left around a stable and crashed straight into someone. Whoever it was caught her with surprisingly strong arms. When she looked up, she saw a handsome young man with blonde hair and hazel eyes. Allora panicked. She could hear the townspeople shouting, "Over there! She went that way! Get the witch!" She could hear the soldiers' footsteps, the clang of their armor.

Jonathan heard the shouts too. But when he looked into Allora's eyes, immediately his heart went out to the girl. He knew he had to act fast. He put his finger to his lips, motioning for the girl to remain quiet. He pushed her into the horse's stall and threw hay over her as she crouched down. Jonathan went back to the horse just as the soldiers rushed by.

"Which way, boy?!" one of them demanded. "Which way did the witch go?!"

Jonathan pointed down the alleyway. The soldiers nodded their thanks and clamored down the narrow street. Jonathan watched the soldiers until they were out of sight and out of earshot before he went back into the stall.

"They're gone," Jonathan said quietly, pulling the hay off the strange girl. "Are you alright?" The girl nodded. "I'm Jonathan, by the way."

The girl hesitated, wondering why this stranger helped her. "I'm Allora," she said finally.

"Are you really a witch?"

"I'm a warlock," the girl said stubbornly with a frown. Allora cursed herself. The words came out of her mouth before her brain could stop them. How could she so easily give up her secret? But rather than looking repulsed or frightened as most mundanes did, Jonathan looked intrigued.

"I've never heard the name 'Allora,'" he said. "Where are you from?"

"Cardiff."

Jonathan whistled. "That's three days' ride from here. How did you get here?"

"Its…a long story."

"Tell you what. Spend the night at my family's tavern. Have a hot meal and a bed. Then tomorrow, we'll take the horses, and I'll take you home to Cardiff. On the way, you can tell me that long story. It seems like it would be an interesting one."

Allora was taken aback. Just moments ago, she was wishing for a good Samaritan to lend a helping hand, and here he was. "Well…uh…" she stammered. "I – I don't have any…any money."

Jonathan smiled, his eye kind and reassuring. "I didn't ask for money, nor will I do so."

"Why are you helping me? I'm a warlock."

"No, you're a girl far from home and frightened out of her wits. Just don't tell anyone what you are," he said with a wink. He reached behind Allora and pulled her hood over her black hair. "Now come along, before it gets dark."


End file.
